


Honey and Vinegar

by misura



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Gen, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8877298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: The Abrasax siblings get together for a chat.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/gifts).



Titus sipped a glass of wine from a dead world that would have been overpriced at a tenth of the cost and grimaced. One felt a certain obligation to keep up with these current trends and rages, but the sad truth of the matter was that a vintner's death did not magically improve their vintage.

"Something I said, Titus?" Balem's voice still sounded like someone had recently tried to tear his throat out, which was preposterous.

Poor advertising, too, as far as Titus was concerned. Was not the appearance of perfect health and vitality all the proof required to demonstrate the superiority of the Abrasax stock? Personally, Titus wouldn't dream of appearing in public as anything less than a perfect human specimen at the very peak of its physical condition.

Sadly, to the general population, Prime Abrasax was Prime Abrasax - it mattered little to them which Abrasax, precisely, had done the bottling, and so what profit might be won from Balem's eccentricity was hardly worth mentioning.

Kalique seemed to find Balem's affectation amusing, but then, Kalique was nearly as easily amused as she was underestimated.

"Probably," he said. He wondered if Balem was capable of taste. He had it on fairly reliable authority that the only persons who had seen Balem naked these past few centuries had been Sims, some of whom had borne a striking resemblance to persons not unfamiliar. "Could you repeat it, perhaps?"

"I am not speaking for your amusement."

"Then do it to enlighten me," Titus suggested brightly. "Dazzle me with the wisdom of your business practices, so that I may be astonished at your keen intellect."

Kalique's lips quirked. Oh well. Nine times out of ten, Balem _was_ pontificating about his businesses; it had been a fair bet.

"I was speaking of religion, and Mother."

Balem never said 'our mother'. Titus supposed that it was a matter of not wanting to share, which was typically Balem. Titus himself was a great proponent of sharing - the more, the merrier, and all that.

"I think it's quite nice, really," Kalique said, which probably meant that she'd been the one to steer the conversation to this not entirely agreeable subject. "I've even commissioned a statue, for one of my alcazars. One of the old storage rooms will be just perfect for turning into an 11th millennium style contemplation chamber."

"And what, pray tell, will you be contemplating? How _not_ to share her fate?" Titus asked.

"Really, Titus. Don't be crude."

"It's a valid question, sister," Balem said, which was unexpected. Titus was willing to bet that when Balem regarded their sainted mother's image, it was for purposes far less benign than simple contemplation. Of course, he had been her first; any splicer would tell you that first batches tended to be of a somewhat inferior quality, prone to unforeseen failings. "In life, I remember there were years you would not even look at her."

As far as insinuations of murderous intent went, it lacked a certain conviction.

Then again, it was an old wound, and one Balem felt more keenly than Kalique. Foolish, really, for Balem to bring it up, but then, such were the effects of love.

It was a pity the Aegis disapproved so heartily of assassination. Titus thought that a single Sim, well-conditioned and exquisitely crafted, might well have rid him of Balem once and for all otherwise. As it was, he had regretfully decided on a somewhat different kind of conditioning and put the Sim in storage, just in case he'd ever need a favor or wished to amuse himself.

"The feeling was mutual," Kalique murmured. "And hardly unique. You and she had quite the falling out yourselves, did you not? Only a few months before her death, as I remember it."

One good turn deserved another, Titus decided. Besides, he wouldn't want to walk out of here feeling as if he owed Balem. "On that note, what _did_ happen at - oh, what was the planet's name again? Carthage? Something about a delayed harvest?"

"It seems one half of the population suddenly found religion," said Balem. "A type-4."

Type-4 was fairly standard. Respect for all living things, thou-shallst-not-kill, pure thoughts in a pure body, that sort of nonsense. "And?"

"The other half, concentrated on a single continent, converted to a type-6 at the same time. You can see the ramifications, I'm sure. I had to call on the Legion to contain the situation."

Legion containment did not come cheap. Then again, a few solid religion-fueled wars were absolute murder on a thriving population - especially when one of the religions in question encouraged passive, non-violent resistance while the other was of a somewhat more ... violent brand.

"My sympathy. An unfortunate development, indeed." And quite cleverly engineered, almost certainly by someone sitting at this very table. Not that Balem would be able to prove anything, of course.

Titus tried to think of some small favor he might offer Kalique, just to ensure that he would remain uninvolved. Even when the two of them were at each other's throats (strictly in a manner of speaking, it went without saying) Balem and Kalique seemed perversely close to one another, ever united in their disdain for the sibling who was, logically speaking, the culmination of their mother's breeding experiments.

"A minor set-back only," Balem said dismissively. "Hardly worth mentioning."

Titus tried to determine if this was Balem's way of saying that he was too busy to pick a fight with Kalique just now, or if it was Balem's way of saying that the fight had been picked, and to the victor go the spoils. Directness was, alas, not a treat that their mother had allowed to breed true in any of her offspring - which might have been just as well.

Plain speaking might be well enough for, say, a Legionnaire or a member of the Aegis, but from Royals, a certain amount of chicanery was expected.

"I meant to ask sooner, but what _is_ this liquid you've been serving us? Surely it's not wine." Kalique asked, putting down her glass with an artfully not-quite-concealed shudder. It suggested a near-heroic effort at a show of good manners, an epic struggle, ultimately doomed in the face of such vileness as was held by what Titus had poured her.

"You don't like it?" Titus faked taking a hearty sip, smiling at her. "I find it quite refreshing myself."

"Dead wine, from a dead world," Balem said. "A pathetic and pointless attempt to cash in on a poor harvest."

"It tastes like vinegar. Perhaps you should try selling it as such," Kalique said.

"Truth in advertising? What a novel idea."

Balem rose, his own glass still full. "Kalique. Titus."

Titus sighed. "These little get-togethers simply haven't been the same these past decennia. Don't you miss the days when we might shake one another's hand?"

"Or slap one another's face?" Kalique smiled at him, showing dimples. "Of course I do. Next time, I'll take care of the refreshments. I'll show you around my refurnished alcazar. It really is quite lovely."

Titus rose and bowed. "I wouldn't miss it for all the worlds in the Verse."

If nothing else, Balem's reaction to a contemplation chamber containing a statue of their mother should be entertaining.


End file.
